Sanctuary
by SN1983
Summary: Sam is close to his own breaking point after watching Dean break down after their father's death. Sam runs off to a place that had become a sanctuary for him during school. Can Dean pull it together enough to help Sam and in turn help himself? COMPLETE!
1. Breaking Point

**AN: I have revised this to hopefully get rid of grammatical errors, and I have added the exact location of the cabin in Colorado. Silt happens to be an actual city in Colorado, but any reference I make to it or about people or places in it is purely fictional.**

**Chapter 2: **_**Italicized**_** means thoughts. **

Sam walked out of the trashy motel room, slamming the door behind him. As he did so he heard the shower cut off. "Damn," he cursed under his breath and took off running around the corner. He didn't know where he was headed, and he didn't care at that moment. All he knew was that he needed some fresh air, freedom, and a lot of personal space. It wasn't that he didn't love or like Dean, in fact he just about worshiped the ground Dean walked on, but Sam was a loner by nature. He valued lots of alone time, and unfortunately for him, his kidnapping by the Benders was far too fresh on Dean's mind to allow it anytime soon.

He finally stopped running when he reached a riverbank with some picnic benches near it. He loved the water. There was something about the sound of the moving water in a creek, stream, river, or ocean that helped calm him down. Sam glanced at his watch before he sat down on the bank. It was only four in the afternoon. The only thing missing to make this perfect was his sketchbook. He couldn't believe that he had forgotten his sketchbook. His sketchbook was like a journal to him. It didn't matter what emotion he needed to let out, he almost always could in his sketchbook. It wasn't like he couldn't talk to Dean. Hell, Dean had offered enough times lately to have a "chic-flick moment", but Sam wasn't ready to open the dam completely. Every now and then when the reservoir threatened to overflow the dam, he would open it just long enough to lower the water level. Sam almost snorted when he thought about how Dean considered Sam a walking chic-flick moment.

"Oh, big brother if you only knew", Sam murmured aloud.

"Knew what?" came the soft question behind him.

"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" cursed Sam, silently this time.

Sam looked up from where he was sitting to see a slightly pissed Dean looking down at him.

"If I only knew what, Sam? And since when do you run from me? You ran across a street Sam. Did you even look?" Dean asked, his voice raising an octave with each question.

'_Street?'_ thought Sam, _'What street? Oh, crap!'_

"Sorry, Dean", Sam said remorsefully, _'I wonder if Dean is ever going to call me Sammy again. Who would have thought that I would want him to call me Sammy?'_

"Sorry for what? For trying to get yourself killed, running, or not answering my first question?" Dean asked. _'Sorry little brother, you're not getting off that easily. Do I want to talk? No, I don't want to spill my guts, but apparently you need to or you wouldn't be running from me.'_

"For all three, I guess. Look, I just needed some alone time. I'm still upset about Dad, and your reaction to how I was dealing with his death. I mean, was it so bad what I was doing? I know I fought him every step of the way when he was alive, so it is hypocritical for me to try to obey him now. It made his death easier to deal with for me. An olive branch if you will. I need to believe that he can see and understand what I'm trying to do here", Sam answered. _'Shit, did I really just tell him all that.'_

Dean just glared at Sam. _'So it makes it easier, huh? That's supposed to make it right?'_

"You can't just all of a sudden decide to do a 180°, Sam. You showed your true feelings to his face. You can't just decide to make it right now that he's gone. I don't give a rat's ass if it makes it easier for you to deal with his death. If you want to respect him now, you should have done it when he was ALIVE!" Dean yelled. Throughout his rant he had been pacing back and forth, and in his rage he failed to see the wounds he was inflicting on his brother. "I don't want to hear anymore of your excuses right now. We're leaving now. You have fifteen minutes to pack and be sitting in that nightmare of a van, and then we are out of here!"

With that last sentence Dean stormed off leaving Sam shell shocked on the ground. After looking around vacantly for a couple of minutes, he finally stood to go get ready to leave.

'_Why the hell is he so mad at me? I know he blames himself for Dad's death, but why take that out on me? Unless he's mad at me for getting the summoning supplies for Dad, but if it had been the other way around Dean would have gotten them.'_

**Eight Hours Later:**

Dean kept glancing over at Sam in the passenger seat. He could tell that he had hurt Sam with is outburst, but he didn't know or really have the urge to try and fix it. He may not have wanted to fix the damage, but the tension in the car was starting to suffocate him. He noticed a sign for a diner up ahead, and he immediately made the decision to stop. He hated one horse towns, and this was definitely one. Everything was all on one street, and the street couldn't be more than three blocks long. However, they both needed out of the stupid van and more importantly they needed to eat. They were both losing too much weight, and in their line of work that could get them killed.

Sam raised his head off the window when he felt Dean slowing the van down. He had seen the diner and had been hoping Dean would stop. Not that he was hungry, but he had noticed something more important next to the diner. There was a bus station next to the diner. Now all Sam had to do was to convince Dean to stop here for the night not just for supper.

"Hey Dean?" Sam hesitantly put out there.

"What?" Dean answered, _'Shit, the kid's scared of me right now'_.

"Can we stop here for the night? I'm starting to get a bad headache" Sam sort of lied. He was getting a headache, but it was not the type that he would have ever worried Dean with. He knew that in Dean's eyes, Sam with a headache equaled vision and/or trouble.

"Sure. You okay?" Dean immediately asked. Sam noted the way Dean had sat up straighter when he admitted to a headache.

"I'm fine, I just need some rest", Sam replied, "There's a motel a block down the street. Why don't you go check us in and I'll grab us some food". Sam needed Dean to agree to this. Man, he needed Dean to not fight him on this.

"Okay, we can eat in the room, but why can't we take the food with us?" Dean asked.

'_Damn, I should have known he'd fight me. Well, other way around I would have fought him. Okay, gotta think fast'_, Sam thought.

"I think some fresh air will help my headache, and besides it's only a block. Food will be no colder than if we get it now and take it with us", Sam answered.

"Fine, get some fresh air. Here's some money for the food. You know what to get me", Dean gave in.

"I've got enough money for two meals, Dean", Sam replied opening jumping out of the van and going into the diner before Dean could respond. He had to get away from Dean. He was going to shatter soon if he didn't. _'Okay, Sam, you better decide if this is really worth it, because he may not take you back. You need this, he doesn't want to talk, and both of you are hurting and need to deal with it. Maybe he will deal with it if he doesn't feel like he has to hide it from you. You need the alone time as well. I can't handle him attacking me like that anymore. It hurts too much. We're both near breaking point. Just think: mountains, snow, the river, your Jeep. Man, I wish I was there now'_.

Sam grabbed one of the menus off the counter and pretended to be deciding what he wanted while secretly he was waiting for Dean to leave. He didn't have to wait long before the van backed out and went to the motel. He was thankful that the diner was set up where he could order at the counter and see the main office of the motel at the same time.

Sam walked up to the lady behind the register and gave her a small smile. She was an elderly woman, the kind you see and immediately think 'Grandma' and warm cookies.

"Would you be willing to give someone a message for me when they come in?" he asked.

She gave him a knowing look, "You're talking about that man you're traveling with aren't you, honey?"

"That's my brother, Dean. Look, could you tell him that I'm fine. I just need some time alone", replied Sam. Sam knew she wouldn't have to keep the message long. If Sam wasn't at the motel room in fifteen minutes, Dean would be at the diner looking for him.

"Sure, I used to have siblings myself", the lady chuckled, "I actually did the same thing you're about to do once. I should warn you, if your brother is anything like my older brother you won't get more than an hour head start. My brother was waiting for me at the station when I got off, and he was mad as a hornet".

"I need to do this", Sam said quietly.

He left the diner and went next door to the bus station. Sam bought a ticket for the bus that was getting ready to leave. The bus was going to Utah, but it wouldn't be hard to get on another bus in Utah to go to Silt, Colorado.

There was a hunting cabin that Caleb had always let them use when he was growing up that he loved. When Sam had left for college, Caleb had surprised him by sending him a deed to the cabin and the land it was on. Sam had spent at least part of every school vacation he had at that cabin. He had even been planning on starting his law practice in the small town that was near the cabin, so he could live there year round. The cabin was the perfect place to go to try and heal. He felt a twinge of guilt for leaving Dean, but Sam knew if he had told Dean then he would be able to go. Dean was ready to get back to the Impala, after his assault on the car he had become obsessed with fixing it.

Sam walked up to the counter and bought his bus ticket and got on the bus. He slid down in the seat, so that if Dean decided to look for him, he wouldn't be able to see him. Sam almost started laughing at himself. He had no luggage and he knew none of the clothes he had left at the cabin still fit him. There was also the fact that Dean would only be like the waitress said, an hour behind him if that. He was easy to track, but hopefully that fact would keep Dean from panicking.

'_Oh well, it's done and there's no going back now'_, thought Sam as the bus pulled away.


	2. Henry

AN: Sorry for the wait, but thanks for the reviews and the support. I finally chose a small town in Colorado for the cabin: Silt, Colorado. Silt happens to be an actual city in Colorado, but any reference I make to it or about people or places in it is purely fictional. Hopefully if anyone reading this is from Silt, they will not get offended. _Italicized_ means thoughts.

**Chapter 3:**

Dean looked out the window of the motel lobby watching Sam get on the bus. He knew what Sam had been planning, and he hadn't tried to stop him. Truth be told, Dean had been pushing Sam away on purpose. He had hoped that Sam would simply ask for alone time rather than running, but nothing ever turns out like it was planned. He needed the alone time to sort through his own emotions and the time it would take Sam to reach his destination would have to be enough.

As the bus pulled away he started laughing softly. He knew exactly where Sam was headed. Caleb had told Dad that he had given the cabin in Silt, Colorado to Sammy. Dad, Caleb, and he had spent a weekend carving protection symbols and basically doing anything they could think of to make the cabin safe. Dean turned around and nodded to the clerk before leaving the motel. He walked quickly down the street towards the diner.

The bell jingled above the door as he walked in. He noticed that there was only an elderly lady behind the counter and a couple of truckers in the back. The woman behind the counter gave him a knowing smile, and immediately Dean was transported back to a sunny kitchen, the smell of banana nut bread fresh from the oven, and the warmth of his grandmother's arms. The memories rushing through Dean's mind rattled him, but he knew that if Sam had left him a message it was going to be with her. Actually Dean was 100 percent positive that she did have a message for him, if her smile was any indication. He walked up to the counter and sat down on one of the stools.

"Your name Dean?" the lady asked.

"Yea", answered Dean. _'I knew Sammy had left a message with her.'_

"You already know what I'm about to say, don't ya honey?" she asked. This time she had an expression that was very close to a smirk much to Dean's surprise.

"I have an idea. Sam needs alone time, so he ran off and left you to tell me rather than tell me himself", Dean responded with his own smirk, some of his resentment of Sam leaving him in the dark coming our. _'Well, Sammy didn't know that I knew where he was headed, so technically I am in 'the dark''_.

"Got it in one. You don't sound so surprised, but you older brothers tend to have some kind of radar when it comes to younger siblings", replied the waitress, "By the way, my name is Patty."

"You sound like you have experience with an older brother", Dean responded with a half smile.

"Older brother, try older _brothers_, sweetie", Patty hmmphed, "I had four of them. I tried to do what Sam did once as well. I thought I was so clever. I had finally pulled the wool over Frank's eyes. When I got off the bus at the next station, though, Frank was standing right there. The look on his face, man, if there was ever a time I feared my brother it was then. Oh, would give anything to be frightened by him again like that."

"Sounds like you two were close," replied Dean somewhat uncomfortably. This was getting far too close to chick flick territory for him. He glanced at his watch, 9:15pm. "Well, I better go if I'm going to pull a 'Frank' on my little brother. Can I get a coffee to go? You wouldn't happen to have any banana nut bread would you?"

8:30am: Sam's POV

The bus pulled into the station in Utah. Sam quickly got off the bus and looked around. No Dean and no van in sight. He couldn't decide if that was a comfort or not. Dean had also not tried to call his cell. That in of itself was enough to put Sam's senses on hyper-alert.

"Sam! Sam, over here!" a voice called out behind Sam.

Sam turned towards where he heard his name being called a smile already forming on his face.

"You're lucky I was in Utah, man!" said Henry, "If not your ass would have been stuck on about four more buses".

"Well, hello to you too Henry. How's George?" asked Sam. Sam couldn't stop the memories from flooding back at the sight of Henry. Henry was about Dean's age, which was what had caused the two of them to become friends in the first place. Sam had needed someone to take Dean's role and Henry's personality had matched Dean's perfectly.

Memory

During Sam's first stay in Silt by himself, he had gone into town for supplies before the next snowstorm hit. His Jeep Wrangler, Winchester black of course, had decided to die on him. He knew how to fix it, but being stranded in town with his tools at his house forced him to immediately go to Plan B: Call a mechanic. He called Taylor & Son's Automotive to come and get the Jeep. George and Henry Taylor, who immediately came with a tow truck, owned Taylor & Son's Automotive. By the time the Jeep was fixed Sam had a job and plans to go to the local bar that weekend with Henry. Over the course of winter break Henry and Sam became best friends. Henry got Sam to loosen up and give one of the local girls a try, and Sam got Henry to seriously pursue adding a body shop to his father's garage. George had even taken on a fatherly role to the parentless boy once Henry had told him about John's ultimatum. Sam spent that Christmas and every other holiday at the Taylor's after that vacation. Well, he did until Ryan, but there was no way he was going to think about that right now.

End Memory

"Dad's great, especially when I called and told him that I was bringing you back with me," Henry answered laughing, "Where's your stuff?"

"I didn't bring anything. The trip was kind of spur of the moment, and don't ask any questions", Sam answered defensively.

"O-o-kay. Well, how about we get some breakfast and hit a store. Because unless you've snuck into Silt without us knowing, you've got nothing at your house either", offered Henry.

"Deal, let's go", Sam said. He looked around one last time. There was still no sign of Dean. _'Maybe I should wait to see if he shows up? No, if he was concerned he would have called. Even if he thought I was missing, he would've tried my cell. Maybe he doesn't want me with him anymore. If that's the case, then I'm better off leaving now'_.

**8:30am: Dean's POV**

Dean stood in the shadows of the bus station. He knew Sam was looking for him, if the way the kid was looking around was any indication. He had purposefully parked the van around the corner, behind a building, where it could not be seen. Dean saw a look of disappointment flash across Sam's face when he did not spot what he was looking for. The look was enough to convince Dean to give away his location when he heard:

"Sam! Sam, over here!" a voice called out behind Sam.

Dean knew that voice, and hearing it cut like a knife. He should've been expecting it. Hell, the kid was headed to Silt, and that was where Henry lived. Yea, Dean knew about Henry and his family. The Taylor family was Sam's replacement family. That fact pissed him off back then, and the effect had not changed.

"You're lucky I was in Utah, man!" said Henry, "If not your ass would have been stuck on about four more buses".

"Well, hello to you too Henry. How's George?" asked Sam, smiling.

Dean had not seen Sam smile like that in weeks, and to now see it the result of his replacement. Well, it was too much. Dean quickly backed further into the shadows and made his exit.

Dean sat in the van awhile before he started it. It was true that he had been pushing Sam away, and it was true that Sam had tried to open up to him. _'This is what you get for pushing him away, Dean. You get replaced, again'_. Dean knew more than Sam ever suspected him of knowing about Sam's life in Silt. He always hoped that someday Sam would try to make him apart of it. Especially after Ryan came into Sam's life for the short amount of time he was granted, but it wasn't him that got to share it with Sam. It was Henry that had gotten that privilege.

"I'll be damned if I let him replace me again without a fight. I need to get a strategy, though. I've already done too much damage with my temper to get Sam to open up to me again. Chick flick moment be damned, if I lose him it will not be my fault" Dean swore softly to himself. He put the van in gear and headed back to Bobby's. It would take him a day to get there and a couple more days to fix the Impala before he would go get Sammy.

Dean was unaware of the invisible passenger in the backseat and his sad smile at Dean's vow. The passenger didn't know how things had gotten so messed up between the brothers so quickly, but he wasn't going to let it stay that way. Sure he couldn't touch things or communicate with them, but he could influence their way of thinking. Those two deserved to be brothers again, and he needed them to be no less than that.

**AN: Bits of the story of Sam's life in Silt will be revealed in subsequent chapters. If reader response is high enough I might write a couple full length stories to flesh out the story and the characters. Story name may be changed. This story has gained a life of its own. When I started this story, I never saw it going in this direction. I finally understand what the other authors mean when they say 'a story has a life of its own'. Any and all comments or criticisms are welcome and appreciated.**


	3. George and Diane

**AN: Sorry for the wait, but thanks for the reviews and the support. Silt happens to be an actual city in Colorado, but any reference I make to it or about people or places in it is purely fictional. Hopefully if anyone reading this is from Silt, they will not get offended. _Italicized_ means thoughts.**

**Chapter 4: Sam's POV**

The car ride from Utah to Silt, Colorado was quiet, but comfortable. Henry realized that Sam didn't want to talk, and he wasn't going to push. Sam stared out of the window at the scenery whizzing by without even really seeing it. He was too busy thinking about everything that had happened in the past year that was bad enough to make him want to return to Silt. Dean showing up, Dad missing, Jess dying, finding out he was psychic, returning to the hunt, seeing Mom for the first time, shooting Dean, leaving and returning to Dean, Dean almost dying, seeing Dad for the first time in five years, Dad leaving again, meeting back up with Dad, working with Dad, the Demon, Dean almost dying again, Dad dying, and Dean taking out his pain on him. God, he just wanted there to be an end in sight. _Hasn't our family been through enough?_

If you asked Dean to list Sam's dreams for the future, he would probably say: wife, house, 2.5 kids, dog, and law practice. These weren't always his dreams, though and Jess wasn't the first time he had buried his dreams for the future. He had done it once before in Silt around four years ago. December 12, 2002 to be exact, and he had swore to himself he would never return to the cabin after that day. For the remainder of Winter Break he had stayed with the Taylors, and he stayed with them every holiday after that.

'_I bet no one has cleaned up or messed with that cabin, except for routine maintenance since 2002. I can't believe I am going back to stay in that cabin. Suck it up, Sam. It's been four years, and it's not like what happened was supernatural. Dean was right, demons are easier to understand than humans'_, thought Sam.

"Mom is cooking a welcome back dinner for you", said Henry, breaking into Sam's thoughts, "No one's been in your cabin since you left it, so you might want to stay with us tonight. Mom was cleaning up the guest room for you the last time I checked in".

"That sounds good. I'll clean the cabin tomorrow. I'll warn you, though, so you can warn your parents. I'm not in a talkative mood", replied Sam.

"Okay. Here's your fair warning, if you haven't opened up in two days, then I'm tying you up until you do", warned Henry with a look that didn't leave any doubt about how serious he was.

"Thanks," Sam said sincerely. He needed to talk desperately, but he also needed time to analyze this new set of circumstances that had ended with him running. _'I wonder if that threat would work on Dean'._

The last three hours of the trip were spent in contemplative silence, and all too soon Henry's Highlander pulled into the Taylors' driveway. George and Diane Taylor were waiting on the front porch as the young men got out of the SUV. Henry went around back to get Sam's and his duffels, while waving Sam towards his parents. Sam awkwardly walked up to them, but the awkwardness soon faded as they both engulfed him in a big hug.

"We've missed you! Don't you ever stay away that long again!" Diane admonished Sam.

"Welcome back, son", George greeted warmly. He noticed Sam flinched slightly when he called him 'son'. "What's wrong?"

"My father just died", Sam answered quietly.

"Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry! At least tell me you two were able to make peace?" George asked dismayed. While he loved Sam as if he was his own son, he had always been keenly aware that he was treading on another man's turf. The father in him couldn't imagine how he would feel if he were in John's shoes. John had come into the garage once to find Sam after he withdrew from school the middle of his freshmen year. George had spent the meeting slightly terrified of John Winchester, not to mention Dean, who had stood behind John shooting daggers at George with his eyes the entire time.

"Yes," answered Sam looking down, "and no".

"Focus on the 'yes' part of your answer Sam, and not on the 'no'. Hindsight's 20x20, and you can't redo the past", advised Diane, causing Sam to raise his eyes to her eyes. 'Now, I don't know about you, but I'm starved. Dinner's ready, and so is your room, Sam. I'm sure you're tired after your trip."

"Yes mam, I am tired. If you don't mind, I'll probably go straight to bed after dinner. I'll need lots of sleep if I'm going to tackle that cabin tomorrow", replied Sam. His statement caused the senior Taylors to gasp. They had not realized that Sam was intending to stay at the cabin, nor that he was ready to face the contents.

"Do you need some help?" Diane offered softly.

"No mam, I need to do this on my own," answered Sam, unconsciously he had straightened up and squared his shoulders. George's eyes went wide at the gesture, because all of a sudden instead of Sam standing in front of him, he could easily see John.

**The Next Morning:**

Sam had tossed and turned that night until about 2am, when he finally gave up. He got up and pulled out his new sketchbook, and started to sketch. He drew Dean's face when he told him his actions were, 'too little, too late', he drew a sketch of the soccer mom van, and he started a sketch of his father's face when he had asked him to not fight. The last sketch he knew he would never finish. If he decided to finish, then he would just start over again. The unfinished sketch was too symbolic of his feelings at the time. Sam quickly dated it and closed his sketchbook. It was now 5am, and Sam was ready to get to the cabin. He quickly straightened up the room and packed his duffel. He was about to walk out the front door, when a quiet voice behind him stopped him.

"Leaving so soon?" the voice said. Sam turned around to see George standing behind him.

'At least let me give you a ride over there. Diane had picked up some groceries that she knew you liked. You can take those with you. Do you want to check your Jeep out there yourself, or let me tow it in and look at it today while you clean?" George offered.

"I appreciate the groceries, and if you don't mind towing in the Jeep that would be great. Any chance I can be a ghost employ in a couple of days?" Sam asked.

"You know you can. I've already added you to the weekend schedule", answered George, "I know when to take advantage of a good break". He winked at Sam as he said that last line. "Let me get my keys and we'll go ahead and go".

Thirty minutes later they pulled up to the front of Sam's cabin. Sam and George put the groceries on the porch and Sam helped George load the Jeep. Once George pulled out of the yard, Sam walked back up onto the porch. _'You ready Sam? Here goes nothing.'_ Sam thought as he was unlocking the front door. He opened the door and stepped inside. _'Yep, everything where I left it. This is going to be fun to clean, not. It will be good for my frustration, though'._

At that moment Sam's eyes fell on a photograph and he nearly fell to his knees in pain. How had he ever thought that this was going to get easier when he managed to step inside? He was mistaken, badly mistaken, because there all around him were the bitter reminders of the life he had nearly had. By this time Sam had sagged to his knees sobbing. He was too upset to pick up on the spirit standing in the corner. The spirit was aware of him, though, and if a soul could cry it would. He had forgotten what Sam had buried here, and he was appalled at himself for that fact. He was instantly reminded of what he had forgotten as he stared at a picture on the end table of his Sammy holding a baby.

**AN: Yeah, I know my chapters are short. They look so much longer on MSWord, though. Longer chapters in the future I promise, now that midterm papers are done. Yea!!!! Chapter 5 will have Dean's POV, and it should be up this week. Dean's POV was supposed to be in this chapter, but I haven't been able to finish it. ****This story is set between ELAC and BL, but Kripke keeps dragging out the angst on the show. No real complaints here, yet, but that will make the ending when I get there slightly AU. Criticism welcome!**


	4. Confronting the Past

**AN: Sorry for the wait, but thanks for the reviews and the support. Lots of backstory in this chapter about Sam, and next chapter our boys will be reunited. I know I said that this chapter would be Dean's POV, but I felt I needed to hand out these pieces of the puzzle before I went to him. Our boys should be reunited by next chapter, lots of Dean in the next one I promise! This story will deal with up to CSPWDT. Silt happens to be an actual city in Colorado, but any reference I make to it or about people or places in it is purely fictional. Hopefully if anyone reading this is from Silt, they will not get offended. _Italicized_ means thoughts and memories. **

**Chapter 5: Sam's POV**

_**At that moment Sam's eyes fell on a photograph and he nearly fell to his knees in pain. How had he ever thought that this was going to get easier when he managed to step inside? He was mistaken, badly mistaken, because there all around him were the bitter reminders of the life he had nearly had. By this time Sam had sagged to his knees sobbing. He was too upset to pick up on the spirit standing in the corner. The spirit was aware of him, though, and if a soul could cry it would. He had forgotten what Sam had buried here, and he was appalled at himself for that fact. He was instantly reminded of what he had forgotten as he stared at a picture on the end table of his Sammy holding a baby.**_

By that night, Sam finished cleaning the cabin and he was currently curled up on the rug in front of the fire resting. He found an old photo album, and he was currently flipping through the pages, letting the pictures take him back in time. The photos went all the way back to his first time by himself at the cabin. After a couple pages of photos, Sam came across pictures taken not long after Henry and he became friends. There were pictures of the two of them working on a car at the garage. George had taken those without the two of them knowing.

_Sam walked awkwardly into the garage. George had told him to be here at 9am, and he was thirty minutes early. The first person he spotted as he walked in was George's son. He couldn't remember his name, but he did remember the guy was not thrilled about Sam working there. It was pretty obvious that he was not happy about his Dad taking the new kid under his wing, so to speak. About that time George walked into the shop area and noticed Sam._

"_Not one to be late, I see. I admire that in a worker. I'm teaming you with Henry today because I'm not sure of your skill level and I need to go out of town today," George said warmly, not missing the unhappy looks from both parties. With that he got in his truck and left._

_Henry and Sam stared at each other for a few minutes, sizing the other up. Finally Henry broke the silence._

"_We have a couple oil changes, a tune up, and we need to start an engine rebuild today. The first oil change will be here in an hour, so go put on the suit Dad laid out for you," Henry said with a resigned air. He noticed the slightly scared look in Sam's eyes that he was trying to hide, not to mention the cuts and bruises on his face that hadn't completely faded yet. He didn't know what happened to the Winchester kid, but he wasn't going to take his issues out on him. _

_The two soon worked out a good rhythm and the morning went by quickly until it was time to start on the engine. Until then they had worked separately, but on this project they would have to work together. It was quite obvious to Sam that Henry had decided that he was in charge. He had assigned the easiest of the tasks to Sam, and Sam quickly finished them. He noticed that Henry was having some trouble fitting a part into the engine, so he went over without saying a word, and turned the part around in Henry's hand. Henry blushed red and quietly asked if Sam would give him a hand. George returned a few hours later to find the two laughing over a story that Henry had told while they worked. George picked up the camera out of the passenger seat of his truck and quietly snapped the boys' picture._

There were other photos of the two as well. The night Sam went with a bunch of Henry's friends to the local bar, the rodeo they all went to, holiday gatherings at the Taylors', and more. In all the photos you could see the damage on Sam's face from the attack that happened to him his first semester at Stanford.

Sam had of course heard his father talk some about his service in Vietnam. It had usually been when the old man was drunk, but there was one name that was consistent in John's stories, David Barrows. David and John had grown up together in Lawrence, Kansas, and they both joined the marines at the same time. They were luckily put in the same regiment and deployed to Vietnam together. There was one story that John had never told about David, one no amount of alcohol could get out of him. Sam heard that story from David himself.

David and John worked well together, and were sent on a two person mission around the end of their time over there. The assignment went badly, and David was captured. John knew that he wouldn't be able to rescue his friend on his own, so he had to leave him behind to go get reinforcements. David had watched John leave, and during the subsequent forty-eight hours of torture he decided that John was responsible. His friend had abandoned him, friends don't do that, John was going to pay for leaving him! David was finally rescued by John and the rest of the regiment and was given a one way ticket home. He never forgave John and swore he was going to make John suffer like he had.

John hadn't been hard to find after the war. He went back to Lawrence and married his high school sweetheart, Mary. David was still recovering from his injuries and regaining his body strength, so he decided to wait. He would wait until he could take John on his own, hurt him, he'd show Mary the type of man she married. He waited and plotted, while John just kept sweetening the pot. Mary and he had a son, and then in four years later they had another son. John had this perfect family, and David was too scarred to physically in his mind to ever have one. Then fate played into David's hands, Sam's nursery caught on fire, and John felt pain. Mary died that night, but then John did something David hadn't planned on. He disappeared and took his boys with him. No one knew where John was, not even his own family knew. David found traces of them, but they had always moved just before he got there. At least until Sam went to Stanford, finally one of them was staying put. He would make John pay by hurting Sam, making Sam feel the pain he had. He might make Sam feel more, he was after all a pretty boy.

David had captured Sam by using his own ignorance against him. Sam knew about David, but not about his hatred for John. When David contacted him to meet him in September, he agreed. He was curious about what his father had been like before the fire. John never wanted to talk about that time, and now that the two of them weren't talking Sam would never know. David drugged Sam and locked him up in an old house in the middle of nowhere. After twenty-four hours of torture, Sam managed to escape when David left. He made it out to the highway and headed the direction the town mile marker was facing. A state trooper passed him on the highway, and Sam flagged him down. A month later it was over. David was put in jail, but Sam couldn't relax. Every corner had someone waiting to jump out at him. The school had their counselor talk to him, and she arranged for Sam to take the rest of the semester off. He could return to school in January with his scholarship intact. As soon as he was given his decree of freedom, he was gone. He never called his father to tell him, because in his mind that would let Barrows win. His Dad couldn't hurt about what he didn't know.

Sam didn't ever want to think about that episode again, but he would have to. The bastard would be up for damn parole soon. Barrows had gotten 10-15 years with a chance of parole. Barrows wasn't stupid. He would be a model prisoner, get released and try to finish what he started. Determined to get on another train of thought, Sam turned some more pages in the album. There were pictures of him and a brunette staring back at him, Nadia.

Sam had gone on a partying, drinking binge after he got to Silt, and Nadia was his partner in crime. He had never been one for no strings affairs, but after one night of partying too hard his defenses were down. They were sloppy, and he was told he was going to be a Daddy right before he left to go back to Stanford in January. Talk about a sobering experience! He convinced Nadia to keep the baby and they tried to make it work. As soon as they both sobered up they realized quickly that they weren't meant to be. Nadia had a difficult pregnancy, and by the end she was at the end of her rope. She hadn't wanted to be a mother, and the added fact that the child inside her was going to need lots and lots of special attention was too much for her. The baby had a heart defect, one that was inoperable. To complicate matters, it decided to make its appearance before it was ready. Ryan Dean Winchester was born on July 1, 2002.

Sam flipped through pages and pages of pictures of Ryan at the hospital. He could feel the tears building again. Ryan had spent so much of his short life at that damn hospital! Nadia had bowed out right after Ryan had been born, and she quickly went back to her partying ways. Eventually the pages became photos of Ryan and Sam at the cabin. It was November before Sam was allowed to bring him home. Sam had never been so happy and sad at the same time as he was when he was able to bring his baby home. The doctors were not hopeful. They told Sam that Ryan was too weak for surgery and his heart wouldn't hold out that much longer, but that Sam could take him home. Thanksgiving was the only holiday that Ryan was able to spend at home, though. On the morning of December 10, Sam found his son already dead in his crib. He wasn't sure how many hours went by while he screamed his rage and heartache out on the floor, but eventually he was able to pull it together enough to call George and Diane. They took care of everything. Ryan was buried on December 12 in Silt, and Sam left the cabin never to return. Well, at least he thought he wasn't going to come back. By this time Sam was more than take a break from going down memory lane. He set the album on the coffee table and went to bed.

After the light in Sam's room went off, John's spirit came out of the shadows. It wasn't fair really, knowing what you know when you're dead. He hadn't known about what David had dared to do to his son, but now he did and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it now. He had one last mission to complete before he went to his Mary. He had been surprised when one sent to take him had agreed. It only showed him even more how important it was that the boys were brothers again. The only way they were going to defeat the Demon was by being brothers, but it was more than that. John had screwed up so much as a father, and Dean had done his job so well with Sammy. The fact that Dean needed Sammy was a given, probably as much as the fact that Dean couldn't realize how much Sammy needed him. He knew all about survivor's guilt, hell, he had his own share of it, but Dean was letting it ruin the one good thing he had been able to hold onto through everything. His relationship with his Sammy. Even when Sam was at Stanford the relationship was still there. It had greatly diminished by the time Dean picked Sam up to look for him, but it was still there. John took a look around the cabin before he left. He knew Sam had put down protection, but he was still uneasy. Sam alone was a perfect development for the Demon. He wished he could go check on Sam, but he knew he shouldn't get too close. Sam could sense him if he got too close. He had definitely proven that at the hospital with Dean. John quickly vanished from the room, he had some prodding to do on Dean's end.

**AN: I'm taking it as John traded his life, not soul. The show may end up proving me wrong, but oh well. Reviews and criticism welcome!**


	5. Bobby's Junkyard

**AN: Sorry for the really long wait, but thanks for the reviews and the support. Between all the papers I had to write at the end of last semester and the fact that I don't have the Internet when I go home for Christmas, I'm just now updating. Here's the Dean POV that I've been promising. I own nothing! **

**Chapter 6:**

**Dean's POV:**

Dean woke with a start. He hated nightmares. They were typically Sam's forte, but since the accident they plagued him. The one he just woke up from had scared him. His greatest fear was being alone, and in his nightmare he was. There was no Sam, Dean couldn't find him anywhere. Sleep was forgotten as Dean got up. He had arrived at Bobby's the night before, and now Dean was ready to tackle the Impala. Anything to get his mind off the canyon that had opened up between his Sammy and him. He was starting to regret letting Sammy go. He fingered his cell phone while a mental war raged inside his head. He needed to hear Sammy's voice. The sounds of Bobby slamming around in the kitchen had him putting the decision off.

Bobby looked at Dean pointedly over his shoulder as he was scrambling some eggs. Dean could almost hear the questions he knew Bobby wanted to ask him without Bobby speaking. Where was Sam? What happened? How could you run him off like that? Don't you know that the Demon wants the two of you apart? Dean wasn't disappointed. The minute he sat down with a cup of coffee, Bobby let into him.

"Why are you alone?" asked Bobby, with a hint of fear in his gravelly voice. Bobby knew John's secret about Sam and the Demon. Hell, he's the one that told John in the first place.

Dean looked up in surprise at the trace of fear he heard in Bobby's voice. Bobby flinched when Dean slanted his eyes at him. He knew Dean now controlled the conversation, at least for now.

"You know, don't you? Of course you do, how else would Dad have known? Demons were definitely one area of the supernatural that Dad wasn't all knowing. Did you know the bastard decided to tell me you guys' little secret with his final words?" Dean vented.

"I told John what I found out about the Demon and the children he targets last year. It was right before John dropped off your radar so to speak," Bobby answered, knowing he was about to tick Dean off. He made a point to not go near Dean's last question.

"Wait. You knew where he was? I called you! You told me…" Dean exclaimed.

"What I told you was true when you called. I didn't know where your Daddy was then. I gave him the information over the phone. He didn't offer up his location and at the time it wasn't important to ask. Actually, since he dropped out of sight after I told him, you probably know where he was," Bobby said.

"Jericho, California. That Woman in White bitch, Sammy and I finished the hunt after Dad vanished," Dean responded quietly. He was starting to put the pieces together in his head. _Damn, Dad was good!_

"Was that before the Demon got Sam's girl?" Bobby asked. Dean wasn't the only one putting the puzzle together, and he had to admire John's ability to manipulate the outcome he wanted. John wasn't stupid by any means. He knew about Sam's girl, he also knew that the Demon would go after her. Twenty-two years, that was the grace period. The Demon wanted his chosen to be alone and scared. By making sure Dean would go to Sam, John had guaranteed that Sam wouldn't be. Bobby didn't even want to think about what would've happened if Dean hadn't of gone to get his brother. He wasn't the type to play the "what if?" game. Sam was safe, and that was what mattered. Well, at least he was safe before Dean showed up on his doorstep alone.

"It was before Jess died," Dean answered. His head whipped up alarmed at the thought that had just crossed his mind, "Dad didn't know that damn Demon was going to kill Jess did he?" Dean asked alarmed. He sounded like a small child that needed to have that parental reassurance, and that was definitely one trait that Bobby did not possess. It startled Bobby that Dean was even letting that side of him show. _Damn it John! You sure screwed these boys over good, didn't you?_

"Never mind, I don't want to know the answer to that question. I don't want Sam to ever be able to get a hold of that kind of information," Dean countered quickly.

"Speaking of Sam, you never answered my first question. Where _is _he?" Bobby asked.

"He's in Silt, Colorado. We both need the alone time, Bobby. We've been together almost nonstop since November of last year," defended Dean. He knew his defense was weak considering what they were up against, but he sure as hell didn't have to answer to Bobby.

"Silt? That where Caleb's old cabin is? The one that you three put all those protection markings in?" Bobby asked. If Sam had to be away from Dean, then there wasn't a better place for him to hole up in. The cabin needed some new protection charms now to really ward off the Demon though. He made a mental note to send them with Dean. He wasn't going to ream Dean one for letting Sam leave. He had seen the two of them, and he knew how they'd been acting, particularly Dean, since John had died. Dean definitely needed the cool off time without Sam around.

"Yea," Dean answered, suddenly desperate to get away, "I'm going to go work on the impala."

"Fine, some packages arrived with my name on them. It's funny, because I don't remember ordering them. They're all for a 1967 Impala, though," Bobby said. He noted the surprised look on Dean's face. Yup, that confirmed his suspicions; Sam ordered those packages to surprise Dean.

"Who did?" Dean asked.

Bobby's eyebrow rose, "You have to ask, boy?"

"Sammy," Dean whispered. Man, oh man, did he screw up.

"Yea, that would be a good guess. Well, I've better go try and train that new pup I got. Damn rascal doesn't know a demon from a squirrel," Bobby said.

"Okay," Dean responded quietly, still sitting at the table.

Bobby walked out the front door shaking his head. There was a reason he never added the role of parent to his job description, and these Winchester boys were quickly reminding him of it.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

After a couple hours, Dean finally felt able to face the packages. After doing a quick inventory he realized that everything he would need to get it running was right in front of him. He blinked quickly a few times to keep the tears at bay. His Sammy had done this for him. Even after Dean had done nothing, but push him away since their Dad's death, Sam had still found all the parts he would need. Dean pulled his cell out of his pocket and his finger hovered over the '1' button. He needed to talk to Sammy, but he wasn't sure if he could do it over the phone.

'_Like doing it to his face is going to be easier!'_ thought Dean, _'I'll call later, after I've had time to figure out what to say.'_

Really, what could he say? He felt sorry for the way he'd been treating Sam, and damn it if he was going to let Henry take his place again, but the truth of the matter was that he still felt the same way. He didn't really want the caring, sharing part of the whole social interaction of grieving.

Dean walked over to the Impala and saw the hole he'd put in the trunk the last time he was here. Damn, that was going to be a bitch to fix. He squared his shoulders and set about fixing his baby, his home, well his home when a certain someone was sitting passenger seat.

SNSNSNNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

As the sun was going down, Dean started to gather his tools together. He looked down at his cell phone. The one that hadn't rang all day. Sam was probably to busy catching up with the Taylors to remember to call him. Dean went back to cleaning up his tools when a muffled "Hello" startled him. He looked around for a few minutes trying to figure out who or what the hell was trying to mess with him now, when he noticed his phone was open and the light was on. _What the HELL?_

"Hello? Dean? Are you okay? DEAN?" came out of his cell.

Dean picked up his phone and noticed SAM CELL plainly written across his screen. _Well, shit._

"Hey, Sam", he answered awkwardly; "Did you call, because I didn't call?"

"You called me, man", Sam answered awkwardly as well.

"Oh", Dean replied softly. It seemed fate had decided he had to talk to his brother now. Sure, he had wanted to talk to Sam, but what did he say now that he had him on the line.

"You still there?" Sam asked.

Dean then realized that he had been silent for too long, so he cleared his throat and replied, "Yea, Sam. I'm here. I guess I must have hit a button on my phone and it called you. You okay?"

"Yea. 'You okay?' That's all?" Sam asked shocked.

"I know where you are, Sam, and if I thought you were in danger I'd be there in an instant. Look, I know we both need some alone time. We've been together almost 24/7 since last November. I'll be finished with the Impala in a couple days. I'll see you then, okay?" Dean's last line almost had a pleading quality to it, though he wouldn't ever admit it.

The plea reminded Sam of Dean's fear of ending up alone. It sent a knife of guilt through him that he had left Dean, again, but Dean had said that they needed some alone time.

"Yea, Dean. I'll be here. See you soon", Sam replied.

"Se ya soon, Sammy", Dean ended the call with that phrase, and as he shut the phone he tried to remember the last time he'd called Sam, Sammy. It had been awhile. Well, if he was going to go get Sammy in a couple of days then he'd better get to work.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

**AN: Two more chapters tops and my first chapter story will be finished. I apologize again for the really long wait. I have a lighter workload this semester, so there shouldn't be anymore delays.**


	6. A Painful Admission

**AN: I own nothing! Ya'll have waited long enough! This is my first big angst conversation between Dean and Sam, so I need plenty of feedback. I'm serious about the feedback. I'm a very descriptive person, so if I go overboard I need to know. **

**WARNING: IMPLIED AND SPECIFICALLY MENTIONED RAPE AND TORTURE!**** You have been warned. I do not use many details for this, so I feel comfortable leaving it as a 'T' rating. No Wincest, just brotherly love. I firmly believe brothers can hold one another without it being considered incest or a non-family love.**

**Chapter 7: Dean's POV**

Dean circled slowly around his pride and joy as she gleamed in the sunlight. He couldn't believe that he had managed to piece his baby back together.

'_Humpty Dumpty, take that!'_ thought Dean proudly as he closed the hood. He walked back to Bobby's cabin to grab his stuff before he went to go get Sam. Bobby's new puppy was watching him quietly from the porch. No take that back, he realized the dog was watching something behind him. Dean turned around. Nothing was there.

"Dog's been seeing something with you all morning." Bobby spoke up from the doorway. "It's not anything dangerous or he'd of let us know." As he finished that last line, he turned around and headed back into the cabin.

"Nothing dangerous, hmpf….since when do you let supernatural entities roam your property freely?" Dean smarted off, a little uneasy about being followed.

"Entities? You channeling your brother? I know your vocabulary's not that high." Bobby responded back with a smirk while handing Dean a couple of duffel bags.

"Thanks. What's in that duffel?" asked Dean while looking at a dark green duffel quizzically.

"Supplies." Bobby answered. "I, uh, raided Caleb's stock after, well, you know."

"Oh" responded Dean quietly. "Well, I better burn some daylight if I want to get to Sam's by tomorrow."

"I'd tell ya to be a stranger, but I don't think you'd listen." Bobby said sarcastically, and then he turned toward Dean with all traces of humor gone. "I don't make this kind of offers often. If you or your brother needs anything, you don't hesitate to call me. You hear me?"

"Yes sir, thanks." Dean replied. It touched him that his Dad's friend cared so much about John's boys. If Dean didn't know any better, he'd swear Bobby liked them over their Dad. He quickly walked out to the newly restored Impala and threw the duffels inside. He turned the key and listened to her purr. Something didn't feel right, though. He glanced over at the seat next to him. Sammy wasn't there. _'Well, no time like the present to rectify that.'_ Dean thought as he tore out of Bobby's driveway.

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

Sam threw down the rag in disgust. He couldn't concentrate today to save his life. He knew Dean was supposed to arrive at sometime this morning. He wasn't ready to face him. He caught Henry and George glancing over at him out of the corner of his eye. He squared his shoulders and went back to work on fixing Mrs. Flint's shot carburetor. A couple hours later he looked up and noticed a very familiar figure leaning against his workstation.

"Hey" Sam said softly.

"Hi yourself. You're not bad at that. You've been holding out on me." Dean accused. He was pissed. Didn't Sam realize what another mechanic in the family would have meant? Instead of Dad and Dean working on the car, it could have been all three working together. Maybe then Dad and Sam might've had a better relationship. They'd have had something in common, and Dad always mellowed out when he was working on a car.

"You think I could grow up surrounded by cars and not learn about them?" Sam asked, surprised that Dean was oblivious to his mechanical knowledge.

"You never showed any interest." Dean accused.

"Working on the Impala, and then later the truck was Dad and your thing. The one thing that both of you did together that had nothing to do with me. You deserved that. I wasn't going to take it from you. And no, in my opinion, hunting, hustling, and drinking don't count as viable father-son activities." Sam answered while looking over his shoulder to see where Henry and George were. Surprise, surprise Henry was now working on the car closest to them, without appearing to be eavesdropping. Funny, that car had another one in front of it. And George? He was standing in his office doorway watching the two of them. Sam didn't have to ask Dean if he was aware. He knew Dean was, and he also knew that Dean wasn't too happy about it either.

Dean studied Sam until Sam grew uncomfortable and looked back at the job he was currently working on. Dean didn't say anything else. He was content for the moment to let Sam work, so he could figure out what Sam's skill level was. He tried to push what Sam said about working on the car being their Dad and his thing, but he couldn't. What Sam didn't realize was that John had wanted to be something fun for all three of them, not just two of them.

Sam quickly finished the carburetor and moved to the car that Henry had skipped to be closer to Dean and him. Dean's eyes narrowed when he saw where Sam was going. He had worked in enough garages to know the way to rotate the jobs. Sam going to that one meant that Henry had skipped it so that he could protect Sam from Dean if need be. Dean looked over at Henry, who was currently giving him a calculating gaze. Dean glared at him, and then looked back over at Sammy.

"What time are you done here?" he asked.

"At 5p.m." Sam answered while sparing Dean a glance.

"I'll meet you then." Dean answered.

"Wait a minute." George interrupted, earning the patented Winchester glare from Dean. _'Damn, they both can eerily channel their Daddy'_ he thought. "Sam tells me you are quite the expert on cars, and if that Impala out there is any indication he's right."

Sam's head jerked towards the window at the word "Impala" as he tried to catch a glimpse of his brother's baby. He wasn't able to see it from where he was, so he glumly went back to servicing the Toyota in front of him.

Dean saw Sam look for the car, he felt bad for not parking it where he could see it since Sam had supplied the parts. He cut a glance at George. "What's your point?" he asked.

Raising a hand to stop Henry from butting in George answered, "I've got a Chevy out back that was totaled last week. I could use a pair of "Chevy" eyes so to speak. I can give you Sam's arrangement for the pay."

Dean was tempted. To get paid to restore a car would set them up for several months. "Let me see the car before I give you my answer. My so-called "Chevy" eyes might not be worth anything to you" he replied.

George looked at him appraisingly, "Come with me, then."

Dean and George walked out the back door leaving a stunned Sam and Henry in their wake. As if on cue, they both looked at one another.

"Why didn't I see that coming?" Sam asked with a small grin.

"You? Why didn't I?" Henry shook his head. "I just hope Dad knows what he's doing."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked angrily causing Henry to raise his hands in surrender.

"I just mean that you said your brother moves around a lot, and now you go with him. Dad's going to need him to finish that job, and not bail on it." Henry answered testily. He wasn't used to arguing with Sam. If Dean being around meant that Sam and he would be fighting then Dean could go find money elsewhere.

Sam deflated somewhat because, _Damn it!_, Henry had a point. If Dean agreed to the job, then George would tell the owner that the garage could fix the car. _'Well, I guess I'll just have to make sure that Dean finishes it. That is if he agrees'_ thought Sam, while he said, "He'll finish it."

"Yea, I will, so get your panties out of a wad" answered Dean. He had been listening to the end of the conversation, and it had made his heart swell when Sammy defended him. "I'm starting now. The car's not in as bad of shape as your dad thought it was. It looks ten times worse than it is."

"Excellent. Tools are in that corner and coveralls are in the back" Henry responded evenly.

Dean smirked at Sam when Sam looked over at him, then he went over to get the tools he'd need.

The afternoon passed without incident, although it was a lot quieter than usual. Sam walked out back at 5pm to get Dean. Dean was currently under the car with a tablet. He observed Dean for a few moments before he announced, "It's quitting time."

Dean raised his head in surprise. He hadn't realized that much time had gone by. _'Easy part over, now comes the talking'_ he thought.

After putting everything away they both walked out of the garage. Sam walked slowly around the gleaming Impala, and although he'd deny it, Dean could see tears in his eyes. Sam looked up at Dean with a killer smile, which Dean returned.

"You want diner food or you want to eat at the cabin?" Sam asked, taking the bull by the horns.

"Diner, unless I'm going to be stared at and pestered with questions." Dean answered slowly.

"Can't make any promises one way or the other, but I want to eat at the diner" Sam said. "My treat" he quickly added, after remembering the last time he had promised Dean food.

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam. "Let's go."

Dinner was thankfully quiet as the two tried to break the ice around them. Thanks to some good food the ice was significantly thawed by the time they left the diner and took their respective vehicles back to the cabin. As Dean pulled into the driveway behind Sam, he could feel himself shutting down. The air around him was practically screaming "chic flick moment". After following Sam inside, he took a minute to get a bearing on his surroundings. His eyes fell on the photo of Sammy and his son. On the coffee table there were more pictures spread out on top. He quickly swiped one of his brother and nephew before Sam saw him.

Sam turned towards Dean from where he had been facing the kitchen. "Coffee?" he asked as a conciliatory gesture.

Dean nodded. He was appreciative of Sam's gesture and he hoped his eyes showed it. He followed Sam into the kitchen and sat on one of the barstools. A few minutes later he had a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. He looked up at Sam, who was currently playing with his cup rather than drinking it. Dean glanced around the kitchen taking in pieces of Sam's life here, his home, _one that did not include him_. He became angry as he looked around. He pinned Sam with a glare.

"You seem to have a nice thing going here" Dean said with a sneer.

Sam sighed, "Yea, I know. The Taylor's and this town are great."

"The Taylor's? They your family now?" Dean asked, not realizing how scarily close his growl was to John's.

"There are two types of family, Dean. The type you're born with and the type you choose. You and Dad are the first type, and they are part of my second type" he hurriedly went on as he saw Dean gearing up for Round 2, "I needed someone when I came here, and they came the closest to filling the spot."

"What about Dad and me? You could have come home! How do you think we felt when we found out that you were no longer at Stanford, and no one knew where you were? Your roommate said that you had been attacked and messed up pretty bad. Do you have a clue?" Dean asked angrily, his voice rising with each line.

"You two were GONE! Dad told me if I walked out that door to stay gone, and damn it that's what I did. You want to talk about feelings? How would you feel if Dad turned that line on you? Told you to stay gone, to never come back. Dad threw me away. He threw me away like a piece of garbage just because I had a dream separate from him that I wanted to follow!" Sam shouted as tears ran down his face.

Dean gaped at Sam. "Aw, Sammy," he practically whispered with the stinging of suspicious moisture in his own eyes.

"I had no one! I was alone, I was scared, and Stanford was no longer safe. You were right at the Bender's, 'demon's I get…humans are crazy', or whatever it was you said exactly. Something along that line." Sam ended.

"And I still agree with that line" Dean said, "I take it then that your trouble was human form, not supernatural?"

Sam looked up surprised. "I thought you said you two checked around?" he asked.

"We did. Your friends wouldn't talk. We didn't introduce ourselves as your family, because we thought it would be suspicious if your family didn't know what had happened to you. Which, by the way, we didn't, and we…I still don't", he responded shakily after almost including their Dad in the present tense.

"You remember the stories Dad used to tell about his time overseas?" Sam asked quietly.

"Okay, random."

"Go with me here! Do you want to know or not? I don't talk about it! I don't want to talk about it! You're only going to get it from me once, so listen!" Sam yelled angrily.

Dean could see Sam trembling, and his gut clenched at what he was about to hear. "Yea, I remember."

"You remember the guy that always seemed to feature in Dad's stories?" Sam asked.

"Yea, the Barrows guy, the one he grew up with. They were like brothers." Dean answered, not liking where this was going.

"Emphasis on the word 'were' big brother. There was one story Dad never told, and I didn't hear it until Barrows hunted me down. And yes, I believe the word 'hunted' is used perfectly in that sentence. He used the 'old friend of Dad's' ploy to get close to me, assuming correctly that Dad wouldn't have told us everything" Sam said while turning towards the sink effectively putting his back to Dean. He paused for a moment. "He said he wanted to meet Johnny's kid. I thought it would be cool to get another view on Dad. A pre-fire view of him. He figured out pretty quickly what I wanted. We met for dinner a few times to break the ice. He told me stories of the two growing up. Dad would have given you a run for your money, by the way. He didn't put on a stellar acting job. I could tell he wasn't making the stories up. He started wierding me out after the second dinner."

"Why did you keep going?" Dean asked quietly after Sam had paused for awhile and appeared to not be starting back up. He was furious. He was also glad Sam wasn't facing him, because Sam would probably take the expression on his face the wrong way. How dare this man use his baby brother?!

"I was curious, and he only had time for one more dinner before he went back to his home. I figured what the hell? I get a few more stories of Dad, he gets to feel closer to Dad, and then he goes bye-bye. He managed to drug me. I don't know how he did, or how he managed to get me out of the restaurant without raising suspicion. I don't remember. The next thing I remember is waking up on a table, tied…" Sam stopped as he turned quickly back to Dean sobbing, "I can't do this! Don't make me tell you everything!"

Dean just looked at Sammy quietly. "I need to know, Sammy. I need to know what that bastard did to you. Please, Sammy." Dean begged.

Sam was too upset to realize that Dean was calling him 'Sammy' again. He just stared at Dean with tears rolling down his face. Dean got up quietly and took Sam's arm. He led Sam to the couch and made him sit down. He then quietly started a fire as the cabin was starting to get cold. After he finished he looked up at Sam, who had curled his 6'3 frame into the corner of the over-stuffed couch. He sat down on the other end of the couch and faced Sam while draping his right arm on the back of the couch. Sam stared at the fire a little while before taking a deep breath and continuing on with his story.

"He had me tied eagle spread, without any clothes. He tortured me while he told about how Dad had abandoned him in Vietnam. They had been working on a two man intelligence assignment and had gotten caught. Dad got away, but he couldn't. It was two days before Dad got back with reinforcements to get him out. By that time he had been so hurt that he got a one way ticket home. He blamed Dad for his injuries. He wanted to hurt Dad. He laughed about Mom and the fire, and about how he couldn't have planned it better himself. He used the knife that Dad had given him to cut me with, over and over again, while he told the story. After he finished he forced some water down me. It must have been drugged because I don't even remember him leaving. I woke up the next day with pain down there," Sam nodded downwards with his face turning red. He was no longer crying, but he felt like he could start back up at any moment.

Sam took a deep breath, "It must have been in the afternoon, because he arrived not long after I had come to. He didn't even taunt me. He simply beat the shit out of me and then forced himself…I fought. I swear I fought him, Dean." He finally met Dean's eyes and was shocked to see matching tears flowing down Dean's face.

"I know you did, Sammy. Oh, buddy, you did nothing wrong. You hear me?" Dean demanded. He needed Sam to get that message with every fiber of his being.

Sam looked away. He wasn't ready to admit that he had done everything possible. "After he finished, he left me without remembering to make me drink the water. We had fought so hard that the binds on my wrists were loose. I was able to get free. Luckily my clothes were right there, so I left. As I was walking the road a trooper passed me and stopped. I don't even want to think about what I looked like. He took me to the hospital there. They did their invasive tests and took pictures. The trooper radioed in Barrows' description and that of his car. They caught him, and he was convicted and put in prison. He'll be up for parole soon" Sam ended quietly. He had calmed down slightly by the end of the tale.

Dean seethed over in his corner of the couch. How dare this guy touch his brother! He looked over at Sammy and quietly asked the question that had been playing in his brain like a broken record the entire time, "Why didn't you call me? I would've been there in an instant, and you know it. I didn't kick you out, and I most certainly didn't throw you away!"

"When Dad said what he did, you didn't say a word. I figured something that big that if you didn't agree you'd speak up." Sam answered as the tears renewed themselves. Emotionally he felt caught in his 18 year old self's mind. "It was my very first semester away from you two. I felt like a failure. I didn't even last one damn semester Dean! Not one!"

"You were supposed to graduate the semester we took off, Sammy. You made it, kid, you made it." Dean answered with pride. He knew it had taken a lot of guts on Sam's part not to come running back into the fold. He also knew that if Sam had, there would have been no way possible that Dad would have left it open for a repeat escape.

"I also didn't want him to win. Remember I said he wanted to hurt Dad through me?" Sam asked shakily.

"Yea," said Dean. He couldn't take much more of Sam's tears. He never could.

"That's a big reason why I never called." Sam said as he tightened the hold he had on his knees.

"Huh?" Dean asked confused, and then he literally felt his heart break as he realized what Sam meant. "Oh, shit."

"It wouldn't have done any good to tell! He was being punished! Dad wouldn't have been able to get near him. By Dad not finding out he lost, don't you see?" Sam sobbed, "I made him lose, I won by not telling. I won…I won….Dean?!"

"Come here, Sammy." Dean said quietly. Sam didn't respond. He was too distraught with the idea that he might have made the wrong choice five years ago. Dean leaned forward and gently pulled Sam into his arms. He simply held his brother until Sam's sobs had slowed and he had stilled with sleep. Dean knew that now was the time to do his exploring of the cabin's secrets, but he wasn't ready to move Sam to do so. He had been very flippant when he made the remark to Sam about a hug, but even though he was the one comforting Sam he could feel a piece of his own heart heal. He wasn't alone, as long as he could hold onto Sammy, he wasn't alone.

**AN: On to chapter 8! I had planned to end this with one long chapter, but the boys had other plans! Yes, I realize Dean has angst, but this started out as a Sammy story. **


	7. Exploration

**AN: I own nothing! I apologize profusely about the long wait! I know it has been almost a year since I last updated, and I honestly have been meaning to update long before now. Now as for the story:**

**No Wincest, just brotherly love. I firmly believe brothers can hold one another without it being considered incest or a non-family love. There are some events referenced here that were described in greater detail in previous chapters that I decided to not re-tell as I thought it would make the story cumbersome to keep repeating myself like that. I have never been to Silt, CO, and in hindsight I should have probably changed the name when I realized there was an actual place. **

_**Italicized**_** means thoughts.**

**Chapter 8 (Part 1):**

Dean looked over at Sammy's peaceful face in sleep. He knew that with what Sam had told him the peaceful expression wouldn't last for long. Dean decided that if he wanted to explore the cabin's secrets, now would be the best time. He needed to stay up anyway to keep an eye on Sam, might as well make it a productive venture. He eyed the photos on the coffee table and decided that those were as good a place as any to start.

He sat down cross legged on the floor and pulled the photo album over to him. He was shocked by the picture of Sam that faced him when he opened the album. Barrow's torture was very evident all over Sammy's face. Dean gritted his teeth and kept going through the pictures of Henry and Sam to Nadia to finally Ryan. His mouth dropped open in shock at the picture of his baby nephew in the hospital. He looked so small, so helpless, so….Dean didn't know what word he was looking for to describe his nephew. He hadn't been prepared for the images. He knew that Ryan had been a preemie and that he had stayed in the hospital an awful long time. So long in fact that Dad had been planning on throwing his pride away and going to his son and grandson, but then the news had reached them through George. John had left his number with George when they had met with the instruction to keep him updated on Sam. Dean guiltily remembered that he had been convinced that something had happened to Sam and that was why Dad had actually started crying. _'Well I guess something did happen to Sammy, just not what my imagination had filled in the blanks with," _thought Dean as he closed the photo album.

Miracle of miracles, Sam was still sleeping peacefully, so Dean decided to familiarize himself with the cabin again. He belatedly remembered that he had forgotten to lay down protection due to Sam's meltdown. Understandable, but reckless given what was after them. He went into the kitchen to get the box of salt he had spotted earlier next to the cabinets and was shocked to see a fresh line of salt under or on each opening in the cabin. He remembered that Bobby's new puppy had been seeing something tagging along with him. He wondered if he had possibly brought whatever it was with him to Sam's. Whatever was tagging along with him apparently wanted to keep the two of them safe.

'_Looks like Sammy and I have our own personal whitelighter,' _thought Dean while out loud he said, "Just because you're helping us doesn't mean your days aren't numbered whatever the hell you are."

John's spirit laughed a little uneasily at that line. He knew that when he had used his new found ability of moving objects that he was taking a risk with Dean, but he couldn't risk his babies like that.

Dean looked over to where he remembered the two bedrooms being and saw both doors open. He looked into the one that had been his and Sammy's when they stayed in the cabin as children. He could tell it had been made into a bedroom for him, but the signs that it had been intended to be a nursery had not all been taken down. There was a wallpaper border around the room depicting a ship with a bunch of animals. _'Must be from that Bible story Mom used to tell me. I think I even had a toy of the ship with the animals,' _mused Dean wryly as he also took in the boxes near the door that were filled with obvious baby stuff.

'_Damn, while I was putting the Impala back together and thinking I was having the harder time dealing with everything, Sam had to deal with this. There isn't any dust on these boxes, so they had to have been packed recently,' _thought Dean sadly.

He moved to their Dad's old room and saw that it had become Sammy's room. He moved into the cozy space. The furniture was made of light woods and the colors of the bedspread and chair, while dark, made the room feel very warm. _'Martha Stewart's got nothing on you, Sammy!'_ thought Dean as he actually let out a quiet chuckle at the mental picture of Sam's face if he ever said that line to his face. Dean did have to admit that he liked his brother's decorating style. It was very….well….homey.

Dean was brought back from his musings by the beginning sounds of Sam's nightmare. _'Here we go,'_ Dean sighed mentally, _'Ready or not.'_

By this time, Dean had made it back to the sofa as Sam was starting to thrash around.

**AN: Thanks for patiently waiting for the next installment of this story! This is only part of Chapter 8 due to a horrid case of writer's block. I know where I want the two to end up I just don't know how I want to get them there. I decided I'd rather post a short chapter than make y'all wait any longer for an update.**

**I am in no way above downplaying how Dean was feeling after John's death! It just seems in character to me for Dean to think Sam's pain is more than his.**


	8. Ryan

**AN: I own nothing! Now as for the story:**

**No Wincest, just brotherly love. I firmly believe brothers can hold one another without it being considered incest or a non-family love. I have never been to Silt, CO, and in hindsight I should have probably changed the name when I realized there was an actual place. Oh well, I'm an Archeology major, what can I say; we have dirt on the brain. He He ;)**

Chapter 8 Part 2:

Dean quickly kneeled by the sofa as Sam started to thrash around even harder. He placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and started to try and wake him. After about five minutes of alternating between shaking and tapping Sam's face, Dean was finally rewarded with a pair of wary blue eyes.

"Hey" Dean said quietly. The wariness in his Sammy's eyes saddened him. He wanted to erase that pain and the memories that went with it. Barrow was so a dead man! He didn't care what Sam thought of right and wrong and justice. No one and he meant no one, did that to his brother and got away with it!

"Hey" Sam answered quietly. He looked around and noticed that he was still on the couch, which meant that he had cried himself to sleep in his brother's arms. Oh joy. "Sorry about that" he gestured at Dean while he said it as he found an interesting spot on his lap to stare at.

"Sorry about what?" Dean asked thoroughly confused.

"Sobbing all over you like a weak, pathetic…" Sam started, his voice getting louder with each word.

"Whoa! Hold it! Don't you dare! You've done nothing wrong. You needed to let it out. I'm only going to say this once in my lifetime, so pay attention. Sometimes in life chic-flick moments are required" Dean stated firmly. He put his finger under Sam's chin to make him look at him. "Although those moments are rare…Sammy?"

Sam chuckled softly as he shook his head. Trust Dean to think that they were necessary when it was Sam's state of mind on the line, but if it was Dean's? Forget it. He'd rather bottle it all up than open up to Sam. "Yea, I got it," Sam responded with a small smile.

"Good…I don't want to have to tell you again," Dean admonished while he pushed Sam's bangs out of his eyes. _'Kid needs a haircut! Doubt he will, though.'_

Sam looked over at the coffee table and saw the photo album laying there. He sucked in a deep breath. He knew what pictures were in there. He also knew that it had not been out before he had fallen asleep. "Did you like the pictures?" Sam asked bitterly, "Always wanted a photo album to keep memories in growing up. I thought he'd like one as well. That turned out real well didn't it?"

"Sam…"

"I mean seriously…am I that horrible?"

"Sammy!"

"Come on, Dean!"

"No, Sammy."

"No? Let's see. My mother is burned alive over my crib, we lose our childhoods, you way more than me, I get attacked in college, I watch my son lose his battle with life, I watch my girlfriend burn alive over my bed, I nearly lose you…twice, I fight with my Dad moments before he dies. Did I miss anything?" Sam snapped.

Dean breathed out heavily in an attempt to keep his temper. Yelling at Sam would be counterintuitive right now, no matter how much he's begging for it. "Sam, none of that was _your_ fault! No, I mean it! None of it! The yellow-eyed demon caused most of that! Blame him! The guy who attacked you? Psycho! So, not your fault! Yes, in hindsight you should have been more careful, but hindsight's 20/20, right?" Dean soothed.

Sam looked up from the couch where he had been picking at the upholstery. "You forgot him", he said quietly.

"Who, Sammy?" Dean asked. He knew who Sam was referring to, but he also knew it was important for Sam to say his name out loud. "Who?"

"Damn it! You're gonna make me say it aren't you?" Sam cried, "I know that you know!"

"You need to say it…in your head doesn't count", replied Dean, "Even Dad could say Mom's name, Sammy."

"Ryan", Sam whispered.

"Ryan wasn't your fault", Dean said, "It wasn't hers either, these things happen all the time to good people! And before you start, I'm not going to say anything about timing, 'cause I know I'd punch anyone who said that to me."

"I could have made sure she didn't get pregnant," Sam said brokenly.

"Yea, if you were thinking clearly and hadn't had your world shattered", Dean said, "I know you, Sammy. You are the most careful person I know! You needed an escape and your head created an attachment to her. No, Sam, listen to me! You are not a one nighter! You need the connection, even messed up you'd have needed it!"

"You didn't see him, Dean, and yes, that was totally my fault", Sam countered, "If you had seen him fight for every breath and saw the doctors shake their heads as the hole got bigger and bigger and he was nowhere near the weight required for the surgery."

"How early was Ryan?" Dean asked.

"Two months…he was at 31 weeks when he was born. They want the baby to make it to around 36 weeks, 40 is full term. He was way too early! And so small, oh God, he could fit in my hand he was so tiny! He was definitely a Winchester, though", Sam answered.

"Oh?" Dean asked.

"He came out screaming before his vitals went down and they had to intubate. It was ironic in a way, most preemies have more trouble with their lungs then their hearts. That damn hole! Nadia had already long booked it, and he wasn't gaining weight. He was around 4.5lbs when he was born. They needed him to be around 6lbs before they'd operate. They said they'd risk it if he could make it to 5.5lbs. He was getting so sick that he'd of had a better chance even with them taking the risk. In the end, it didn't matter. He didn't gain the weight and they let me bring him home with some equipment for the end. If it had been the lungs rather than the heart, he could have been saved. At least that's what the doctors said", Sam answered.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy, I'd give anything that you hadn't had to go through that. I also wish I'd of got to see him, even if I couldn't have held him. I do have a confession to make. Dad knew. I saw him crying and I thought it was you that had died, but he told me it was his grandson, my nephew that had died. He almost came, we both did, but we weren't sure how you'd react. You had been through so much that you could have gone to either extreme. We did come while you were here though. Dad set George straight about who was your father. George kept Dad updated and in return Dad didn't bother you here", Dean replied.

"You make it sound like _I_ was the one who didn't want the two of you around! Dad was the one who told me to leave and stay gone! Not the other way around! He couldn't let me live my life the way I wanted, and considering what happened he probably was right. But Dean, it was my life, and shouldn't what I want out of it count? Shouldn't what you want count? Sure, our wants will cancel out periodically. I want to be at school, you want me here, who wins? But it shouldn't have had to be all or nothing. A compromise could have been made if he had wanted to. He could have made his home base near Palo Alto. I could have come back on vacations. You two could have come there. I'm portrayed as the villain simply because I wanted to go to college. Don't take this the wrong way, but you _chose_ to stay. I know it was for me and Dad, but mainly me. You didn't have to stay, Dean", Sam said quietly, while amazed that Dean had let him get everything out.

Dean sighed. He really did not want to have this argument again, but apparently every issue they had in some way went right back to those short ten minutes five years ago. "I couldn't have left. No Sam, you don't understand. Dad couldn't keep track of the hunt and you at the same time. That's where I came in. To make sure there was food, clothing, shelter. Dad forgot those things. You weren't used to thinking of them either. You still aren't. You're better than you were, but you still expect me to provide them and I do happily. We're both alphas, but only one of us needs to call the shots at a time. Yes, it's mainly me 'cause that's what _you_ and I are used to. Perhaps, I need to learn to let you take the reins more…everything but the car of course", Dean said.

"Of course," Sam replied with a grin, "The car remains fully yours as long as…"

"Oh, a condition, huh?"

"Hush. As I was saying, as long as…you never stop calling me Sammy again", Sam replied.

"Seriously? After yelling and complaining for years, that is your condition?" Dean asked shocked.

"Yes, use discretion, but yes, that is my condition. I never realized before just how much it was your way of showing you cared before you stopped. I need it," Sam answered while staring at the floor.

Dean used his finger to lift Sam's head. "While this chic flick moment is still in session, then yes, I will agree to your condition. I'm also glad you finally got it through your thick skull just what 'Sammy' meant", Dean exclaimed.

Sam grinned and then let loose with a jaw popping yawn.

"I think it's past someone's bedtime!" Dean replied while laughing.

Sam looked at his watch. "Uh, I think it's past BOTH of our bedtimes! We've got to be at the garage in three hours!" he exclaimed.

Dean looked at his own watch. He hadn't realized it was so late. "Oh well, two hour nap?" he asked.

"Yep, night, jerk!" Sam called as he made his way into his room.

"Night, bitch!" Dean called back as he went into his room.

**AN: Jared claims that he has blue/green hazel eyes (I personally always thought he had brown eyes). I have that eye color as well, and whenever I get upset enough to cry they turn crystal blue. So that is why I gave Sam blue eyes in this chapter.**

**ONE MORE CHAPTER TO GO AND THEN THIS STORY IS COMPLETE!**


	9. Healing

**AN: I own nothing! Silt, CO has turned out to be an actual town, but the Silt, CO in my story holds no similarities to people or places in the actual town.**

**I've combined Chapters 1-2 into one cohesive chapter. I feel it works better that way, and really it should have been done that way from the start. The content hasn't changed, except for some spelling and grammar issues I found when combining the two.**

**When I started this story I never dreamed that it would take me this long to finish it, but now that I have it's almost a bittersweet ending. Especially since the brotherly interaction that made me hooked on a horror show in the first place has for the most part disappeared from the show. This second half of Season 6 finally is showing the brothers I have come to love! I've missed them! Fitting seeing as how Jensen and Jared don't want to return for a seventh season, their contracts expire after this upcoming season. Hopefully the brotherly jokes and all together good times will make a return as well by the end and we say good-bye on a happy note.**

**Now, on to the story!**

One week later:

Dean wiped off his hands on the rag lying on the floor. He stepped back to admire his work. The 1954 Chevy Bel-Air shined in the lights from overhead and the sun streaming through the windows. Fitting that out of all the Chevy cars he could have had to restore, it would be a '54 model. John Winchester had been born in 1954 and this seemed like a fitting tribute to the Kansas mechanic that loved Chevys. Dean heard someone approaching him, but did not turn to face them. He had heard those footsteps far too many times in his life to feel danger.

"It's beautiful, Dean", Sam breathed quietly. He was in awe of the workmanship that Dean bestowed on the run-down classic. He was also reminded of the fact that if Dean ever decided to leave hunting fulltime and open a garage, he'd be rich. Not that Dean ever would, maybe when he was past his prime he would consider becoming like Bobby.

Dean simply grinned. There was no need to comment. He knew his work spoke for itself.

George came over to join the boys in admiring the classic. He whistled appreciatively. If there had been a way to keep Dean in Silt he would in an instant simply for his mechanical knowhow, he didn't care what Henry thought of him.

Henry and Dean had never mixed well in the week that Dean had been in Silt. Poor Sam kept getting put in the middle and yanked in both directions, at least for the first couple of days. After that Dean seemed to take a backseat to Henry, which caused Henry to think he had won so to speak. What Henry kept forgetting, though, was that Dean was Sam's brother _and_ best friend. While Henry and Sam were also best friends, they weren't brothers. Dean would always win in the long run. It probably helped that both brothers were staying in Sam's cabin and at the end of the day it was just the two of them.

"You have done an amazing job, Dean, I never knew your father well, but as a fellow mechanic, I have to say, he would be proud of your work" George offered softly, knowing that Dean could very well react to his praise with anger.

Dean's expression was tight. He really wasn't ready to deal with his father's death yet out in the open, but he recognized an olive branch when he heard one and after everything George had done for Sammy…_'Damn'_, thought Dean.

"Thanks, George," Dean replied, giving a worried Sam a small grin, which earned him a full grin in return from his brother.

"You're more than welcome, kiddo", George answered, smirking as he patted Dean on the shoulder as he walked back inside to his office. He didn't have to turn around to see the look of disgust on Dean's face. Not one of the boys liked being called, 'kiddo', and that fact alone made George all the more determined to call every single one of them the endearment. The sound of Sam's sweet laughter was another reason for it. The garage had at one time ringed with the sound. The Sam that had returned to them laughed all too rarely. George and Diane were determined that by the time the two brothers hit the road again that Sam's laughter would be restored. They worried about Dean as well, but without the added benefit of knowing him, other than George's encounter with him all those years ago, they didn't have a clue where to start or how to.

Sam was currently sitting in the front passenger seat, admiring the detailing that his brother had done on the inside of the Bel Air. He was startled from his inspection when the driver side door opened and Dean plopped onto the driver's side of the front bench seat. The two looked at each other and laughed till they were wiping tears from their eyes.

"Man, give us a Chevy, doesn't matter they year or model, and we automatically gravitate towards our designated areas, huh?" Sam asked, still chuckling.

Dean chuckled as well while running his fingers over the wheel. The wheel that responded to whoever sat behind it, the wheel that controlled what direction the car went in, the wheel that was an extension of the driver's desires…the area of the car that, as Sam had so eloquently just put it, Dean's designated area of the Impala. He had come to accept over the past year that a lot of Sam's desire to leave was from a lack of control over his destinations. Dean had been slowly giving Sam more and more control over which hunts they took and time behind the wheel. Although, considering what happened the last time Sam was behind the wheel of the Impala, it wasn't surprising he hadn't gone near the car. A fact that would have to be dealt with soon when they left Silt, Dean wasn't planning on travelling the country in a Jeep Wrangler, nor was he willing to let his brother. Dean quickly returned to his original train of thought, the fact remained that as long as Dean insisted on being the main one in control he risked losing his brother again. The only way this was going to work for the long haul was if both of them shared control over their common destination.

"I let you drive sometimes, Sammy", Dean countered quietly.

Sam breath caught in his throat as memories of the last time he was behind the wheel of the Impala rushed through his mind. He knew Dean wasn't referring to that episode, but that he was speaking metaphorically. How he knew this for sure, he wasn't even sure. Most people who knew he was psychic would point at that as the reason, but Sam liked to think it was because he knew his brother too well not to get Dean's metaphors.

"Yea, you do Dean", Sam replied, "but that doesn't mean that the driver's seat doesn't belong to you."

"Well, yea, dude, the car's mine!" Dean responded.

"Exactly," Sam countered back with a smile.

"Bitch", Dean said with a smirk.

"Jerk", Sam replied with a grin.

Dean knew the issue wasn't solved simply because Sam wasn't willing at the moment to hash it out, but he was confident that they would be able to work through it later on. He knew as well as he knew Sam liked to rock out to Bon Jovi that eventually Sam would want more control in their partnership as brothers and hunters.

The Next Day:

Sam quietly packed away the non perishable food into a box that would go into the trunk of the Impala. The perishables were being divided into a box for the Taylors and being packed into a cooler to eat on the road. Dean was currently sorting their clothes into piles to be washed along with the linens that the brothers had used while at the cabin. They had mutually decided last night to keep the cabin, but have the cabin transferred into Bobby's name if he was willing. Considering Dean was supposed to be dead, and who knew where that would leave them if they ever got caught again, Sam didn't argue with Dean's logic on that call. Dean did want to sell Sam's Wrangler, though. Sam had disagreed, arguing that an extra vehicle would have come in handy a few weeks ago. John's truck had never been located, and the boys knew that it would never be seen again. Bobby was on the lookout through his contacts for the weapons, in case they ever made it to his normal dealers.

Dean walked into the kitchen and smirked. He could tell Sam's wheels were burning rubber without even asking, especially since he was about to put lunch meat in the non perishable box.

"Dude!", Dean called.

"What?", Sam answered distractedly until he realized what he was about to do, "Oh, shit!"

Dean walked over to the fridge, chuckling while he grabbed a beer from inside. Sam's face was beet red, sometimes being the annoying big brother was so easy!

"Do I need to check over your packing, Sammy?", Dean asked.

"No", Sam responded with a glare.

"If you say so, but if the Impala starts stinking, you're detailing her", Dean warned walking back out of the kitchen and into the living room. There was a box being packed in the living room as well of books and photos that Sam wanted with him on the road. It would be a pain to make sure that the box was with them, but considering all of Sam's college books and pictures went up in flames, Dean could hardly deny his brother his box.

The boys had finished up at the garage the day before. They knew as soon as they had exited the Bel Air that it was time. George and Henry had been shocked when they informed them of their plans. George had insisted that the two join the Taylors for supper last night and tonight as well. Dean looked as his watch. They had about three hours before they needed to head over to the Taylors. Diane hadn't taken the news of the brothers leaving very well. She had prodded and plied information from the two brothers like a pro until she was satisfied that they would be okay on they're own. Her concern had touched Dean even though he wasn't about to admit it out loud.

They planned on leaving in the morning, which meant making sure the Impala was packed with everything but the perishables and what they needed for in the morning tonight. Dean sighed, if he was honest with himself this was one of the reasons he didn't like staying in one place for long. He absolutely hated packing, the shorter time they stayed, the less packing and unpacking he had to do.

Before the brothers realized it, it was already time to head over to the Taylors for supper. Sam was looking forward to spending one last evening with the Taylors and even Dean was looking forward to the home cooked meal and company. Dean had also given Sam an unexpected gift in the form of letting Sam drive them over in his Jeep under the pretense of saving gas for the next day. Sam had already called Bobby and talked to him about bringing his Jeep to his place. God forbid something happen to the Impala a second time, but just in case, they both wanted to have alternative transportation available.

Dinner was a quiet, but comfortable affair. Diane had fixed Sam's favorite dinner of meatloaf with corn on the cob and mashed potatoes with gravy. Henry and Sam talked about past escapades that kept Dean more than amused during dinner. George engaged Dean in a discussion about the virtues of a 50s classic car versus a 60s model that had Sam and Henry shaking their heads as the tone of the conversation started to become heated.

"Boys, that will be enough of that," Diane said while carrying in a pie plate from the kitchen, causing Dean and even George to redden.

Dean sniffed the air appreciatively. He knew that smell, could recognize it anywhere. He treated Diane to a full blown Dean Winchester special grin and replied, "Something sure smells good!"

Diane flushed while the other men chuckled at her expense. "Only my award winning apple pie, which I have been informed, is your favorite desert," Diane responded with a wink, "You know, I may have made an extra pie, you boys promise to keep in touch and visit and you can take it with you."

Dean sniffed the air again, "Done and done," he answered, holding out his plate for a piece of the divinely smelling pie.

"I'm going to have to remember that," Sam chuckled, "Wave an apple pie under your nose, and I can have whatever I want."

"Ha Ha Ha, Sammy," Dean said while he glared over at his brother.

Both brothers broke out into laughter which warmed the hearts of the Taylor family and eased their remaining worries about the brothers going back into the fray.

The next morning dawned with both brothers ready to go. Sam finished putting the last of his stuff into his Jeep. It would be weird following the Impala instead of being her passenger. He used to be resentful of his place in the family order. John had his own wheels and the freedom they provided and even Dean had his own wheels and the pseudo freedom the Impala provided him as a young adult. Sam never had his own wheels. Dates were spent in his date's car or with Dean dropping him off, borrowing the Impala was absolutely off limits.

"Hey, Sam, stop your day dreaming and let's get a move on!" Dean bellowed across the yard from the front door he had just locked.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at the brother who was not even next to the Impala yet as opposed to Sam who was standing one step away from his Jeep.

"What?" Dean asked, a little unnerved by the similarity between John and Sam at that moment, while he walked around the Impala and opened the door.

"Nothing, Dean, absolutely nothing," Sam answered with a smile while getting into his own vehicle. Mentally he was counting…_one…two….three…_

"WHAT?" Dean asked again, annoyed that his brother had left him hanging. He looked back at his little brother who was currently laughing his head off inside his Jeep. Oh well, he'd get back at him later.

Both vehicles drove off from the cabin without even Sam feeling the presence that was watching the brothers banter back and forth. Their banter had been missing in the last few months since they had lost their father, and watching them now, John could have cried to hear it return. Not that spirits could cry, but being so new to this realm, he could still remember human emotions and responses. He started to feel a warmth from off to his right. He looked over and saw the most beautiful light he had ever seen.

"No, there is still one more thing I've got to do before I cross over, Mary," John said softly watching as Mary's spirit which was waiting for him in the light nodded at him. The light faded and John looked back forward. The cars were long gone by now, but he wasn't planning on bothering his boys anymore. They could work their way back by themselves. There was someone else that needed his attention now, and his attention was almost five years overdue.

John's spirit vanished from the yard and somewhere in California a prison inmate screamed.

THE END

**AN: I can't believe this story is finally over! I want to thank all of you for your patience. When I started this story I never imagined it would take this long to finish it, but I am proud of the end result and that is what matters! **

**Reviews and Constructive Criticism Welcome!**


End file.
